Letter Twenty Five, August 6th 2017

Dear, my aching soul.

Cold is summer, without her love,

dim is the sun, without her eyes,

blank is the page, without her touch,

locked is my heart, without such.

You’ll find no wind on the sea,

without she,

no moon in the sky,

no starry night.

The flowers of May will

cease to bloom,

and my soul will slip

into an empty tomb.

There will be no light in the morning,

there will be no rest in the eve,

there will be no breath in my lungs

nor poetry by my tongue,

She gives life to me,

to the world she gifts her existence,

an angel walking among us,

and my heart finds no resistance-

in loving she,

my angel beside me